


Love Marks

by IAmWhelmed



Category: Dead or Alive (Video Games)
Genre: Action, Blood and Injury, F/M, Heartbroken Leifang, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Jann Lee, Rig is tired, Romance, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:35:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22422700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmWhelmed/pseuds/IAmWhelmed
Summary: "She and Rig would head out to the beaches, slap each other around, throw a few kicks, land a few bruises, then head to the bar to throw back a few beers with Tina and Bass. Tina started teasing about her and Rig leaving “love marks” on each other, and Leifang would hurry to deny that the handmark on her thigh was from anything but him grabbing her and throwing her into the air to sock a hearty kick in her stomach, but that did little to convince her. It was obvious-- to everybody but Leifang-- that they were flirting.It was especially obvious, as it naturally would be, that Jann Lee was incensed by the development."Leifang develops a small crush on new sparring partner, Rig, and is unaware that her pursuit is about to set off a forest fire in one typically apathetic dragon.
Relationships: Hinted Diego/Mila, Hinted Hitomi/Eliot, Jann Lee/Leifang, Leifang/Rig
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	Love Marks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [d.eadalive](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=d.eadalive).



So, he had tattoos.

And a lot of muscles, and a deep alluring voice, and maybe he was a gentle soul despite the rough outer experience; that didn't mean she had to like him. She thought he was attractive! Cool! A real novel fellow with the qualities of one such protagonist, but she didn't like him. Until he caught her out of mid-air after Hitomi accidentally knocked her over the cruise ship's railing in a spar, until she did.

She gasped and clutched to his broad shoulders in surprise, flinching as he caught her legs at the bend of her knees and hoisted her to him. He glanced down at her from behind his hood, one eyebrow raised with a bowed lip. Hitomi came racing over the side of the ship, climbing the stairwell's railing and sliding down with frantic eyes. "Oi, you okay there… Leifang, was it?"

She blinked, and despite herself, she stuttered. "Yes! Yes I'm okay!"

"Leifang!" Hitomi set her hands at Rig's shoulder head bobbing over his muscles to get a better look at her friend, who stared back with the vague intention of listening. "I'm sorry! I totally forgot we were on a ship!"

"You two were sparring, eh?" He snorted, but there was a trace of a grin inching at the corner of his perfect lips. "Might wanna take it easy. Wait until we hit shore to go all out."

Hitomi nodded. "Right!"

He set Leifang down, gently, bent over so that one heel hit the floor first, then the other. She somehow managed to pry her arms away from his neck, trembling as she straightened herself out and went to stand by Hitomi's side. Rig nodded at them, then wandered off to go find Bass and Tina-- and maybe a cold beer. Hitomi grinned and raised her fists. "So, should we take it down a notch until we hit Zack Island?"

Watching Rig walk away sent her heart just… jumping? She wasn't sure, but she knew her eyes were wandering to his toned rear, and the cool way he walked, like an action hero leaving the destruction he wrought behind-- and she wondered if maybe, just maybe, she'd been destroyed (in a very different sense). Hitomi tilted her head, and turned to Rig, then turned back to Leifang with a mischievous little grin. "Neh, neh, did somebody catch your eye?"

Leifang froze, then blew out between pursed lips. "I don't know what you're talking about!" She posed and steadied herself, and eyed Hitomi with intent, hoping she'd move on from the subject. Hitomi grinned knowingly, but readied her fists for another match anyway.

* * *

It was normal that Leifang… "follow"... Jann Lee around. He was busy all the time, constantly had something on his mind, so of course she had to follow him if she wanted any opportunity to spar. Heaven knew he'd never sought her out the same way, so it was left to her, as always.

This year, though… this year, she figured she'd seek a sparring session with somebody else. After all, the best way to beat Jann Lee was to get as powerful as possible, and Rig looked like a pretty fine prospect. So, when she saw Jann Lee head for the bar, and Rig head for the beach, she made the willful choice to make for the sandy aisles. That said, she was fully prepared for him to rebuff her, to scoff about her following him and tell her to get lost. She'd heard it a million times before, it wouldn't be anything new. So, when he stopped at the shore and kicked a pebble into the bluest waters she'd ever seen, she skipped out from behind a palm tree with a whole speech in mind: "I wanted to see how strong you are! Since you thought I needed your help the other day and everything. Care to prove it to me?"

She didn't get a syllable out before he turned around with a shit-eating grin. "Oi, looking for a sparring match? I could use a partner to stretch my legs."

The rest of the tournament carried on that way. She and Rig would head out to the beaches, slap each other around, throw a few kicks, land a few bruises, then head to the bar to throw back a few beers with Tina and Bass. (Hitomi would join them if she was done training, and if they were really lucky, Helena would pop in and have a glass of Moscato to pass the time.) Leifang won, sometimes, and other times Rig won without batting an eyelash, and she detested it-- but then he'd offer her a hand up and tell her "Let's see who wins tomorrow", and that anger would dissipate in a cloud of moistureless smoke. The whole of the tournament must have known a week in. Brad Wong seemed to keep his distance, ya know, instead of flirting as he was so prone to doing; Eliot seemed relieved, at the very least, and Mila was looking her way a lot and giggling. Tina started teasing about her and Rig leaving "love marks" on each other, and Leifang would hurry to deny that the handmark on her thigh was from anything but him grabbing her and throwing her into the air to sock a hearty kick in her stomach, but that did little to convince her.

"Sure, sure, not a surprise that'd be your idea o' foreplay!"

Besides, Rig ignored Tina when she brought that sort of thing up, took to keeping Bass from complaining with his fists about his little girl "talking like that". So there was nothing to support it, clearly. But still, she found herself trying to leave darker bruises on him, on his arms and his chest where people could see them. He seemed to take pride in what she inflicted on him, boastfully poked at the marred skin at one of his pecs, poked fun at how small some were at his arms. She often pouted and threatened to leave a darker one next time, and he laughed and told her he wished she would.

It was obvious-- to everybody but Leifang-- that they were flirting.

It was especially obvious, as it naturally would be, that Jann Lee was incensed by the development.

The man had a perpetual scowl on his face, that was normal, natural, and accepted by very near everybody aside from maybe Zack (but Zack was a clown who loved putting smiles on faces, nobody could blame him for not giving up-- it was kind of cute). However, the moment Rig waltzed into the bar with bruises up and down his arm, and Leifang came in with a slight limp behind him-- the clarity with which the rest of the tournament competitors saw shit hustling in their general direction was astonishing, and they'd all taken to avoiding Jann Lee as to not become unintentionally involved in what Bayman non-affectionately referred to as the "impending shitstorm".

Jann Lee's "I'm looking for a fight" scowl turned a switch and fell to a "I'm looking to murder one specific person, but anyone will do" scowl. Rig and Leifang sat down at the bar and got some beers, gleefully oblivious to the dark, primordial, calamitous aura that was hovering over Jann Lee and slowly breaking the bar's air conditioner with its thickness and ferocity. Ah yes, tension. Nothing new for anyone inhabiting the bar at that very moment, but this wasn't the kind that lead to a bar fight and some free shots. This was the kind that lead to blood everywhere and a very long prison sentence.

"Rig."

"Yeah?" By name he turned around, hood shifting as he slipped it from his face. If the bruises marring his face off put Jann Lee even a little, it was a visual only Bayman or Christie would pick up on. Leifang clanked her glass against Tina's as the two set to a chugging contest, which Bass was overseeing with the last shot of bourbon clutched securely at his solid chest.

Jann Lee nodded to Leifang. "You think this is funny?"

Rig raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I said," He reached out and took Rig's hoodie in one hand, tugging him roughly upwards and out of the barstool. "You think this is funny?"

Leifang cheered as she downed the last of her beer before Tina did-- Tina, who sat there in wide-eyed curiosity with a quarter beer left and an open jaw. Bass's eyes were on them, too, and he gently tapped Leifang's shoulder and pointed at Jann Lee and Rig. "Hey girl," Tina muttered "... I think your boyfriends are fightin'."

"They're not my--!" Rig kicked Jann Lee off and sent him tumbling back, but he caught himself on a bar stool and grinded his teeth. Leifang squeaked and stood up. "Hey! Stop it! What do you two think you're doing?"

Rig punched his open palm, tilting his neck at Jann Lee as he righted himself and squared his chest. "Sorry Leifang, I think that boy toy of yours is itching for a fight."

"He's not my--!"

"You're the one looking for a fight, you bastard. Pretending you didn't know me, what a joke!"

"When the hell did that happen? Stop putting words in my mouth."

People began backing away from the bar, Eliot and Mila taking Brad Wong and Diego by the ponytail and arm as they inched away from what was becoming even more of a scene. Hitomi's dazed, concerned eyes fell on Eliot as she glanced around unsurely, and he nodded to get behind him. She didn't take him up on that, but she did stand and grab Brad Wong's other arm to help cart him away. Kokoro raised a small hand to her lips, then glanced at Helena; Helena merely flicked her wrist and watched the last of moscato in her glass whirl at the bottom. She tipped it back and soaked it up by her lips.

Leifang glanced between the two men, arms outstretched in either direction, not sure whether or not to reach for the closer Rig or the further-away Jann Lee.

"Will you pretend you don't know her, too?"

"You're really starting to piss me off-!"

A wine glass, empty and still dripping with white nectar, flew between them, across the bar, and hit the counter with an explosive impact. Leifang startled, and the two warring men seemed jarred. Helena reclaimed her outstretched hand, using it to fix the creases in her skirt and smooth out her hair. She then stood and slipped out from the table, where Kokoro still sat with wide eyes. "If you gentlemen are done, it's best to work our quarrels out in the ring, no?"

Rig snorted. "I'm not here as a competitor, Miss Douglas."

She nodded. "But Jann Lee is, and if he'd like to win again this year," she met Jann Lee's narrowed, scornful eyes. "...he will fight you in a fair match." He scoffed.

* * *

This was ridiculous, and she knew it. Jann Lee's beef with Rig was nothing more than the sore temper of a lost fight, a consequence Rig was going to have to deal with sooner or later. He knew it, she knew it, and Jann Lee had been betting on it. So why, despite the clear capability Jann Lee displayed in being within Rig's proximity the last few weeks, he suddenly wanted to beat the poor agent senseless was beyond her. Tina thought it was hilarious; Leifang thought it was childish. The irony of that was not lost on her, and she'd make a mental note to point that out to Jann Lee once Rig thoroughly kicked his ass a second time. Or, maybe, she'd wait until the next time he insulted her by brushing her off like some little girl-- yes, that sounded salty and sweet.

Helena stood at the middle of the empty ring, mediator between the stretching Rig on one side and the tense, fuming Jann Lee on the other end. The stadium was empty, and the match (despite Zack's pleading because _think of the money--_ ) would be overlooked by only the stone angel that lay judgement over the ring and the tournament competitors who cared enough to snoop. Tina and Bass sat at the side of the ring with Leifang, eager for a personal look at what would potentially be Dead or Alive's first _dead_. Hitomi sat in the stadium seats between Eliot and Brad Wong, Honoka and Marie sitting a few aisles back; they sat up and down in hopes of seeing past Brad Wong's towering head. Christie sat at the highest, furthest seat possible with her legs crossed and her shades tipped at her nose, a small expecting smile twitching at the corner of her pink lip. Kokoro sat patiently at the lowest seats, waiting for Helena to return to her side with a sort of anxious excitement. Her nose bunched, as did her brows, but there was a hesitant smile on her face. She squirmed in her seat. Diego and Mila had found a seat somewhere near Tina and Bass with a nice view, and were chatting animatedly.

Leifang herself chose to stand, tapping her foot with no impatience, arms crossed to hide the fact that her nails were digging into her arms. This was all so stupid. Jann Lee was being stupid. She was stupid for ever-- she snagged that rearing thought between her teeth and swallowed it down for later. Right now, the man she… liked… was about to throw fists with the man she was never good enough for. He needed her support. Rig rolled one shoulder and looked down at Jann Lee from his tilted chin. Jann Lee wiped sweat from his lip (was he already sweating? how?) and swayed his torso until his arms perched offensively before him. Leifang inhaled.

Helena raised her arm, glanced at both men, then let her nails cut the tension as she lowered her pointed palm.

She moved out of the way, and the fight was on instantaneously.

Rig was spiraling and throwing heavy kick after low-jab with his knee, and Jann Lee was dodging and blocking effortlessly, probably would have been landing blows if Rig hadn't been just as fast. The two drove round and round, countering, punching, kicking, screaming, grunting. Diego egged them on, called them wimps, and Mila shouted too-- though she was shouting words of encouragement. Marie made a chesty noise as she continued to have trouble seeing anything from behind Brad Wong's ponytail. Honoka had found herself a sweet spot over his shoulder where there was nobody else sitting, and she could watch the match with little issue, setting aside comfort. Leifang clicked her tongue. "C'mon, Rig! Kick his ass!"

Rig spun again and raised a leg that Jann Lee caught and nearly tore off with the rough tug her gave the pant leg. Rig grunted and blocked the fist Jann Lee was aiming at his lower region… how very dirty of him. He twisted mid-air and forced Jann Lee's hold to snap before he landed a few inches away, eyebrows raising in some sort of epiphany. "Hey, I think I know what this is about." He inched his head to the side to avoid a punch that made his eardrum pound.

"Only a fool talks when he should be fighting!"

"Is that all you know how to do? Fight?" Rig socked Jann Lee in the abdomen with an uppercut; he stumbled momentarily, but side-stepped as Rig lunged forward for another.

"What else is there?"

"Oh, I dunno, make friends like a human being?"

Eliot joined Mila in shouting supportive one-liners, and Brad Wong had actually set aside his drink-- er, made Hitomi hold his drink, which she did, between her legs in her lap so she could ball her fists in anticipation.

Jann Lee scoffed. "Trivial."

"What is, life? Yeah bud, sorry you didn't get that memo."

His body was feeling the burn, but from the looks of him, Jann Lee was feeling the hurt. He could already see blue and green stacking like growing mold under his skin, and Rig momentarily wondered if he looked the same. "Man, you just dunno how to talk to her, do ya?" The fist that went flying by his head was especially powerful, if the wind force over his shoulder was anything to go by. So he was right on the mark. "You just do this? Punch her all day and hope she gets the hint?" Jann Lee growled and jumped to send a point-blank dragon kick to his face. Rig's face missed the hit, but his throat took the brunt of the attack and sent him flying across the ring.

He tasted pennies and saliva, coughed and watched red drip to the grey-white stadium floor. Rig wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyeing Jann Lee's languidly approaching frame as he dug his fist into his open palm. He looked awfully pleased with himself, like a damn shark with a kill in his jagged teeth. "You'd do well to remember your place. Next time you think about meddling in my affairs, taste that blood and think twice."

Rig laughed despite the swelling of his throat. "Yeah, sure. I'll think about your girl nursing me real well, too." It was underhanded, and vulgar, and there's no way in hell he'd live if Leifang ever heard him say that, he didn't even mean it, but dammit if this bitch wasn't getting under his skin.

The feeling was mutual. Jann Lee's eyes lit with embers that devoured all other tells of skin, so full of ire and flame that Rig took a breath and felt smoke in his lungs. The next time Jann Lee hit him, each hit charred and burned and filled his unsoaked blood with coal. The air that left his lungs was oxidized and searing. Part of him accepted the pain as fair punishment for what he'd said, but the fighter in him made him press off the floor where Jann Lee crushed his hand with his twisting heel and charge with every bit of force in him. Jann Lee's strangled gasp told him he'd surprised him with his second wind, so he took to throwing a whirlwind of kicks his way. Blood was everywhere and he wasn't sure whose it was, but it was on his clothes and hiding in cuts under Jann Lee's torn pants. Blood dribbled down his chin and pooled at Jann Lee's split lip. He couldn't feel if his hits were landing anymore, and if Jann Lee was hitting him, he wasn't feeling that either.

Hitomi gripped Eliot's arm in clutching fingers and dug her face into his shoulder, and he raised one hand to block her squeezing shut eyes, and turned his view away. Brad Wong looked, for the first time, uncomfortable, glancing back at Honoka and Marie, who had taken to squealing and hiding their faces. Christie was walking towards the exit in an unbothered stride, while Mila was despairingly holding Diego's arm as he made a desperate move for the ring. Kokoro's horrified eyes watched on and Helena rested one comforting hand on her leg, standing up with every intention of waving that white flag for both of them.

"STOOOP!"

Rig dropped to his knees, and Jann Lee fell back against his braced elbows. They turned their heads to Leifang as she climbed through the ring's ropes and onto the stage, followed closely behind by a panicked Tina and a tense Bass. Rig took one look at her and felt guilt well immeasurably in his chest.

She looked a mess, ringlets frayed and falling loose in thin strands. Her eyes were pink and filled with tears he'd never seen her shed, hands balling and releasing nervously at her sides. She stepped side-to-side nervously, not sure what to do now that she'd stopped the match, fidgeting nothing with her bare fingers. Her cheeks-- her face-- was pinker than usual, not rosy, not glossy, but heated and _sad_ , so damn sad, and confused. "What the _fuck_?"

"Leifang--" He glanced to Jann Lee, who was forcing himself to sit up despite the weird way his wrist was sitting, eyes watching her so very carefully.

"No. No, what were you thinking? What made you single him out of all of us? Why'd you have to fight _him_?" Tina stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on the bend of Leifang's arm.

"Leifang…"

She pulled away, stepped closer. "Why… why wasn't it me? Am I that insignificant to you? You had to go all out to fight him and you've never-- _ever_ done that with me?"

 _You've never pissed him off._ It was obvious to Rig, of course, why Jann Lee never raised an unprofessional martial artist's hand to her, but he couldn't blame her for being confused. It wasn't easy to read between the lines when the man never had a word of dialogue.

Jann Lee's face was hard to read, solid, flush with rushing blood, like the emotionless rock he was sure he always presented himself as. Leifang seemed to notice the lack of a reaction, and god it made that hurt flare in her eyes in a way that hit him right in his soul. "All I've ever wanted was to be a part of your world, but I'm never going to get there, am I? Years. I've wasted years chasing after you, and after all this time I'm still just a girl you _saved_ once! A little more than some stranger, good for a quick sparring match, a warm-up? I'm a warm-up…" The disbelief that registered to her, the way her voice cut off at the end the way a hanged man takes his last breath. She choked up, hands trembling as she raised one set of shaking fingers to brush the stray hair out of her face-- her sad, grieving, tearless face. But the tears were falling then, bunching up like pools in her auburn eyes and falling down her cheeks, leaving tracks on her porcelain skin.

Tina raised one hand to her lips, eyes filled with empathy. In the stands, people fell silent. Rig glanced around to find that everyone was watching (Eliot, Hitomi, Honoka…) and those who weren't were pretending not to hear (Brad Wong, Marie…). He wished he could pretend not to be involved, that he hadn't known Leifang was searching for something that idiot couldn't give her, that he hadn't accepted the new friend with open arms and ignored the impending fallout. Oh god, this was his fault, too. He'd known Jann Lee would go this far, but he hadn't known why, he'd pretended the why wasn't important. Looking at Leifang's self-swallowed form, knowing that he could have stopped this if he'd only cared to know-- "Leifang."

Her attention snapped to him, like she'd forgotten where she was. Their eyes met, and he tried to convey just how sorry he was, and god the pain that filled him when she seemed to shut off. Fury, she hid the pain under unbridled rage as she looked at Jann Lee one last time, a look she meant to be the last time, that felt like the last time, and turned on her heel and stomped off the stage, fleetingly informing Rig that she'd meet him in the med bay to patch him up. Helena climbed onto the stage, and the last thing he saw before blacking out was Jann Lee's limping body storming in the opposite of Leifang's direction.

* * *

The tears were gone by the time he woke up, as were the red cheeks, but in their place was a vacant stare that went on for miles, so empty compared to the soulful eyes he was used to. He'd only met Jann Lee once before this whole debacle (even though Jann Lee himself thought otherwise?), but he felt just about ready to take the arm Leifang was patching up and punch some sense into him. Would it really hurt the guy to talk to her? Explain himself? Leifang absentmindedly tried to put aloe instead of hydrogen peroxide on his open lip, and he knew he had to be the one to say it.

"I don't have a pretty face." Leifang blinked out of her reverie, glanced at him as she processed. He pointed to his busted lip. "He probably didn't want to leave these ugly markings on you."

She snorted, but there was no smile. He glanced to the small plastic cup of water that sat on the nursing table beside him.

"No, really. It wouldn't be right for him to go all out on a pretty girl."

"He hasn't had any problem fighting girls in the past…"

"None of them were you." She flashed him a hurt look, and he flashed her a smile. "Just sayin'. I don't think the problem is that you're not special-- it's that you're too special."

"I don't think he even knows I'm loaded--"

"To him." She fell silent, took to winding the ace bandage around his thigh. He winced to think about what would happen if Jann Lee walked into to see her hand so far up his inner thigh. Nothing he couldn't handle, of course, but it'd still hurt. "Look, I dunno the guy very well, but I'm getting the feeling he's not very good with words."

"He speaks perfect japanese."

"You know what I mean."

She squeezed his thigh a little too hard, and he hissed. She mumbled an apology that he suspected was minimally sincere and took to strapping the bandage down. "Ya know, I beat him once, but I don't think that's what set 'im off…" She said nothing, just moved to his next leg, and pretended he wasn't saying anything, at least not to her. He wriggled his nose. "I'm thinkin' he took those 'love marks' Tina kept talking about seriously."

"Stop it!" She dropped the bandage and glared up at him, eyes once again full of hurt, full of shame, full of love she couldn't convey to a man who never learned to listen. Right then she was in pain, and he could only make it worse. "He nearly killed you! Why are you defending him?"

"I spurred him on!"

"How? He loves dirty talk--"

"I spurred him on by talking about _you_." She fell silent, mouth ajar, head tilting like a cautious puppy. He bit back the titter in his throat. "You don't need t' know what I said, but he got mad about you. And me. Together." He rubbed a thumb absently at his cut lip. "He damn well near made me a body bag for it." He glanced at her, wide eyes registering what had been said, so he took the cup of water from the table and took a greedy sip. "Bass can finish me up. You go tend to that Dragon of yours."

* * *

He glanced up at her when she first entered the room, eyes narrowed the dangerous way they always were, the way she always remembered them. They were unreadable as always, and she felt immediately more on edge the moment she saw them. Helena had told her he was refusing to be patched up, that he wanted to do it himself, but she'd said it with a twinkle in her eye that told Leifang it was worth a try-- and she was nothing if not a go-getter.

"What are you doing here?"

"Playing nurse, apparently."

He snorted. "I don't need your help."

Of course, he didn't need _her_ help. He never did. He never needed her. She swallowed, and wondered if Rig was wrong, after all. She approached anyway, and snatched the ace bandage out of his awkward hand, working to wrap his sprained wrist. He let her, and made no move to brush her off, but she could chalk that down to pride; he wanted help, and she was the only one stubborn enough to give him an excuse to take it. They sat in silence for a few moments, and it was the calmest she'd ever seen him. She wondered if Helena had forced some painkillers down his throat on threat of expulsion. Wouldn't have been the first time.

Jann Lee glanced at her, then to the white empty wall in front of him, and she didn't acknowledge it. She could have been wrong. "Do you cry like that often?"

Leifang nearly chucked the damn bandage roll at his head. Of course. Of course he'd take the opportunity to make fun of her for being weak-- for shedding tears _he made her cry_! She didn't know why she was surprised. Leifang huffed. "Would it matter if I said I didn't?" They stung at her eyes again, damned little saltwater berries that burned like acid behind her downturned eyes. Crying again would just make it worse, and if this would be the last time she saw him outside of the ring, she wanted to be strong. So he wouldn't make her cry here, he wouldn't make her feel any less esteemed than he already had. She angrily blinked away the burning and squeezed the bandage in both hands.

Until he pressed his hand to one of hers, grasped at her wrist and tugged, tugged her to look at him. Curious, resentfully hopeful, she followed. His expression was the same, neutral as always, unbothered. She waited for him to speak. "Do I make you cry like that often?"

Yes. He'd made her cry more than any other failure in her life. She'd shed arms full of salty wet tears, enough to fill every garden's birdbath. He'd kept her up at night, clawing at her pillow, hoping that the stains on her cover would dry underneath her tight nails. He'd made her train for 72 hours straight with tears-- of frustration, of hopelessness, of every damn missed hit and every bruise she still felt all over her body. Even then, sitting there with his hand on her wrist, she could feel the trace of those fingers leaving a long-gone bruise over every inch of skin. Years of discolored white, hard broken muscle, splintered bone, if she focused, she could feel every mark he ever left, pulsing over her like a second, buried layer. Those were the love marks. Those were the marks she would trace with her fingertips and relive every little moment.

But not anymore, not after this…

She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head away. She was sure Jann Lee had his answer.

He said nothing, and they continued on in silence, her wrapping his wrist, him sitting despondently. (He had to be on drugs, Jann Lee was never this still). Eventually she was done, and she moved on to his ankle, then to his opposite knee, all in an unbroken stream of perfect quiet, and she wasn't sure if she preferred it that way, or if it was making this harder. She always thought that, if she and Jann Lee were ever to go their own ways, they'd end it in a big fight, or a loud bickering argument-- something loud, something alive and fierce, that encompassed their relationship. This quiet, agreeable ending, it was a sad parting of a relationship that never even was, the one she'd thought was so important.

The love she was so resolute in embracing never even existed-- and that's what it was, love. She'd known it, but never acknowledged it until then, sitting with her hands on his marred skin, the only way she'd ever touched him without a fight. The tears weren't coming, but her body was shaking. She hoped he didn't notice, tried to keep her hands as still as possible.

And then he set a hand on hers again, and she froze, and she turned her head away so he wouldn't see her break down. The trembling got worse, and she tried to pull her hand from his, but even drugged-up Jann Lee was stronger, and he held tight to her. She turned her head further away, tilted her chin down and tried to calm the sobs that were building in her chest. Damn him. Damn him, damn him, damn him! She swallowed her broken voice and tried to sound as normal as possible. "I'm almost finished." It still came out low, on-the-edge, pleading. She hated begging, never did it.

"Stop being a coward. Face me."

She whipped around and raised a hand to slap him, but he caught it. She used her other fist to hit his chest, like a normal fight between them, a normal move she'd use in the tournament. It fell flat. It hit him but it didn't even make him flinch. He grabbed her, held both wrists in both hands and watched her break into sobs. She hung her head and let every new wave wash over her and spill out, another memory, another year, each brought a painful squeeze to her heart. Rig was wrong. "He was wrong…"

Jann Lee exhaled through his nose. "Who was?"

"Rig. I feel so stupid, just let me go. I'll grab somebody else. Bet you'd like that, huh? A nurse that doesn't cry because you're a bastar--"

His hands squeezed her. "What did he say to you?"

It was less a question, more a demand. She obliged with an internal roll of her eyes. "That you were fighting over me! Hah! How ludicrous. I can't believe I listened--"

"You didn't hear what he said."

She blinked. No. It couldn't be. "What?"

He scoffed. "You need to pick better company next time you sneak around."

She baulked. Sneak around? "Rig and I are not like that!"

He tore his hands away from her own, turned on the bed so that they weren't sharing a personal bubble anymore. He sucked his teeth. "Oh? Then it's a coincidence that I haven't seen you following me around? Or did you just get better at hiding?"

She stood abruptly, jaw unhinged, eyes narrowed in her blatant disbelief. "Wh--? You don't have a monopoly on the role of my sparring partner! Just who do you think you are?"

He glanced at her from the side, and to the average onlooker's eye, his glare would have looked all the world like his regular cynical stare, but Leifang knew better. There was emotion stirring there, and it wasn't his usual wheel of fortune of emotions either, not mad, not fired up, not amused, not bored. So what was that cold but compromisingly heated look? Then she looked at the slight pout of his lip, the way he'd uncharacteristically folded in on himself where he sat with his elbow on his patched-up knee. She looked at the tilt of his head and how he wouldn't look directly at her, and she knew. He was hurt. He was feeling replaced. He was jealous and angry, and he already hadn't liked Rig, so of course.

Awkwardly, she cleared the lump in her throat and sat beside him on the bed, shuffling so that they weren't so close, and she had room to twiddle her thumbs. "So, I'm not just a warm-up to you…"

"Thanks for that scene you made, by the way."

"Hey! You were about to kill him! I had to say something!"

"And make me look like an ass?"

"You are an ass!" She laughed and bobbed her head. "But I guess not as much of an ass as I thought."

They both chuckled. She almost felt like reaching out to grab his unfinished patching and shape it up, but she felt the conversation not quite done. "You know, I can spar with other people. It doesn't mean I'm replacing you."

"Is that what you think this was about?"

"Well, yeah! Why else would you get so mad?"

He shook his head, and she pouted. "Maybe he was right. Maybe I should talk more…"

"About what?"

"I thought it was merely unspoken."

She gripped his wrist-- the wrapped, sprained one-- and grabbed it tight enough to make him wince. "You won't have a voice box to talk with anymore if you don't just tell me!"

He pulled away, rubbing at the offended limb, and she sat watching him menacingly. He rolled his eyes. "Tell me, was sparring all that you two did out there?"

"Yes! Why does everybody keep asking me that?"

Jann Lee raised an eyebrow, but glanced away, at the wall he'd been staring down earlier. "So those 'love marks' that friend of yours was talking about…"

"Just bruises from sparring! Tina was teasing me because she knew--!" Oh no. Should she tell him? It couldn't have been proper (or at all a good idea) to tell the man she loved that she had a crush on another. "She was teasing me, that's all!"

"So if the bruises from sparring were love marks…" he gave her a glance over from the side, "I wonder." He was always so cryptic, and sometimes, like now, she hated it.

"Wonder what?" He reached over and pinched her exposed collarbone-- hard. "OW! What the hell--?" He pulled away, and she could already see a bruise forming, one that would look suspiciously like a hickey if Tina or Hitomi ever got wind of it. A furious blush crossed her cheeks at the idea. To her surprise, Jann Lee stood, then crossed the room to grab the leather jacket he'd haphazardly thrown on his way into the room, covered in dried blood and sweat, she was sure.

"Let the next man that approaches you to spar see that." He glanced at her over his shoulder, an oddly playful, smug grin on his face. "Let them know who left it."

"Jann Lee?"

"And tell Rig that he won't be leaving any other marks on you, otherwise I'll have to finish what we've started."

* * *

Epilogue

She hadn't understood when he'd left the infirmary that day, hadn't understood what he meant when he told her to show off the bruise-hickey he'd left on her. Even so, she and Rig didn't spend time sparring after that. They had drinks together, and laughed, but they didn't practice anymore. Some part of her felt… unloyal? That was odd, but she'd brushed it off. She still competed and trained with Hitomi and threw full stones across open fields with Tina, but things with Rig stayed the normal level of platonic, the kind of friendship somebody had when neither of them got their kicks out of fighting. She'd showed Rig the mark that same night and he'd snorted and said: "Tell him t' talk and he goes and says that…"

She didn't understand for a week after, and she continued to not understand until she ran into Jann Lee again on her way to train at a new, unfamiliar temple. More precisely, she didn't understand until he'd left her arms and waist black and blue, or until he had her pinned to the temple floor with a grip tight enough to hurt at her wrists. She didn't understand until he was looking at her with dark narrowed eyes and a heavy chest, until she recognized that emotion just in time to not be shocked when he leaned down and pressed a hot, searing kiss to her lips. His grip around her wrists slackened, and suddenly her hands were in his hair, pulling, tangling, drawing him in until he pulled away to kiss her collarbone. Her hand followed the back of his head and she mewled as he nipped at the skin and left what was certainly a real hickey there that time. And then she understood. Jann Lee had claimed the right to leave love marks on her long ago, she just hadn't known he meant to be the only one who did.


End file.
